"So you never knew whether it was a boy or ...? "
"A girl?" asked Malcolm.
I nodded.
"A boy," he said. "Had the approximate date and went to the Registry of Births to look it up."
I sat there, trying to take in what Malcom had said. I felt as though I'd been flattened1 by a truck.
"Somewhere out there I have a child I know nothing about," Malcom continued. "I was stupid. Rushed off instead of staying to have a share in my son's life."
"I thought perhaps it was a daughter."
"Beg your pardon?"
"A daughter. Me."
"You thought I was ... your father?"
